


Onwards, Dib-Thing!

by sunsetblue



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: M/M, ZaDr Secret Santa, and forgets his commin sense, dib reads cosmo, gir shenanigans, mentioned violence against cockroaches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetblue/pseuds/sunsetblue
Summary: Dib supposed it was his fault that they were stuck in traffic so thick it was taking two whole hours to drive three miles with a squealing pig and a bucket of melted ice cream. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that everything he did led up to the past couple of hours.ZaDr secret santa gift to zaderrific!
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Onwards, Dib-Thing!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmeraldTooth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldTooth/gifts).



Dib supposed it was his fault that they were stuck in traffic so thick it was taking two whole hours to drive three miles with a squealing pig and a bucket of melted ice cream. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that everything he did led up to the past couple of hours.

The first thing he did was settle into a truce with Zim. During sophomore year of Hi-Skool, Dib had a huge fight with his dad. Zim had been gone from Skool for about a week, and Dib had transformed the living room wall into a web of what the alien could be planning. Of course, Professor Membrane came home for his Annual Family Dinner, saw the wall, and lectured Dib about wasting his life chasing fruitless endeavors. The shouting match that ensued lasted a good hour before Dib decided that maybe death by Irken Invader would prove to his father that aliens were real. Dib marched past the laser-gnomes, yanked open the door, and sat angrily on Zim's couch, waiting for a fight that would allow him to use his anger the best way he knew how.

But, it never came.

-

It had been fifteen minutes since Dib had blown past the attack gnomes and laser grid, and there was still no sign of the house's inhabitants. His initial rage had since worn off, now replaced by curiosity. 

"Uh, oh no, there's a human in the base, better get him before he, uh, does disgusting human-y things?

Dib got up from his position on the couch, stepping warily in the case of this whole thing being a really convoluted plan, like the muffin throwing fiasco.

"Erm, oh hey, looks like the pizza delivery man is here," he yelled cautiously. "Better come before the pizza gets.. cold!"

Not even a sign of the squealing robot. GIR never let anything get in the way of him and food, even Zim's most successful plans could be toppled by playing on that. Something really wasn't right. Were they still on Earth? Zim hadn't been at Skool for a whole week, which was very unusual with how much the alien prided himself on his attendance, keeping up perfectly with his flawless earth-baby disguise.

"Hey, computer! Where's Zim?"

A deep, metallic groaning echoed around him.

"And he speaks. I was wondering if you were just going to sit there until you starved to death. My, ugh, my master said you're free to contact the, and I quote, 'stupid, inferior authorities of this dirtball planet'."

Dib blinked, startled.

"What? Why would I want to do that?"

"Don't ask _me_ ," the voice whined. "Zim is in his lab. I suggest going through the trash can. The toilet is, ah, gummed up."

The toilet did look unpleasantly sticky. Dib wrinkled his nose.

"Oh-kayyy. Um, thank you?"

"Hey," the computer asked, just as Dib started to head towards the trash can.

"Yeah?"

"If you get the chance, can you remind him to update my OS? The roaches GIR rips the legs off of can function faster than me."

Dib stepped gingerly into the trash can.

"Sure thing. Bye bye."

And the floor slid away, taking Dib with.

Even though he expected it, the lab's uncharacteristic silence still creeped Dib out. No maniacal laughter, no explosions, not even the sounds of welding. Just the click-clack of Dib's boots as he made his way down the corridor. Eventually, he came across the muffled sounds of sobbing, and the doors opened to reveal Zim.

Or at least, what he supposed was Zim.

All he could make out was a curled up green ball, surrounded by what looked to be a blanket of candy wrappers. Music played softly, sounding suspiciously like an alien version of 'All By Myself'.

"Zim?"

The sobbing subsided, and the ball made a muffled attempt at communication. 

"What?"

The sounds became louder, though they were still too muffled to be able to make any sense out of them. Dib crept closer to the lump of Zim.

"Zim, I can't-"

The lump rolled over, and Dib saw his mortal enemy, exhausted past living.

The deep magenta eyes Dib had come to know so well as full of fire and rage, now looked flat and glassy. It reminded him of the time he summoned up a bunch of zombies by accident. It was so similar to the blank looks on their unalive faces, that for a brief second Dib wondered if Zim was dying.

"Are you here to kill me?"

Dib grimaced at the pathetic tone of the words, the entire situation so far removed from the headstrong and passionate Zim he knew. Frustration boiled and burbled up, Dib marching towards the lump angrily, before stopping to make half aborted hand gestures and words that didn't quite make it passed his mouth.

"Stop with that! If your computer didn't tell me you were doing this I wouldn't think this is real! Now stop this bullshit, and get up," Dib shouted, then stomping closer and offering his hand. "Get. Up."

Zim peered upwards at the sight, a flicker of interest crossing his huge eyes. A naked green hand, small and clawed, grasped Dib's hand. With a solid pull, Zim stood beside Dib.

"Where's GIR?"

Zim silently pointed towards a locked, soundproofed room. Dib opened it, and immediately a metallic blur shot out, running around the room several times before coming to rest in front of them. 

"Woowee," GIR exclaimed, pretending to wipe nonexistent sweat off of a metal brow. "Thought I heard the pizzaman!"

Dib opened his wallet and handed him forty bucks. "Here, you can order some pizza, as long as you get a plain cheese one too."

GIR took the money, then looked at Dib like he was somehow about to cry.

"Aww, Mary. You knows the way to my heart real good."

Then he took off again, presumably to order the pizza.

They didn't talk about what made Zim like this, or why Dib was even in the base. They just quietly made their way to the living room, never unlocking their hands. The pizza arrived faster than they ever had for Dib, despite his house being closer to the store. He had a sinking suspicion that the pizzas were stolen or otherwise cajoled, but he couldn't care less about something like that. GIR put on another rom-com starring Adam Sandler, and the night slowly passed.

-

After that, their relationship changed forever. They still fought, but the malice was gone, and too often they ending up laughing until they worked harder to catch their breath than each other. Movie nights became a regular occurrence, with GIR choosing the selection of films and Dib paying for whatever take out they ordered (on the basis that he didn't think Zim actually paid, but hypnotized people to think he did), making sure to tip whatever poor delivery person drew the short straw, generously.

They talked about 'it' after a year of their newfound friendship. Graduation was in a month, and Dib needed to prepare himself for whatever was next in their lives. Would his dad make him go to some prestigious, far-away college? Would Zim be leaving Earth after this? Would they ever see each other again?

Zim laughed, and told Dib not to worry, that he wouldn't be going anywhere without him. And then, after the laughter faded, Zim told him why. Contrary to the curled up husk the information first made him into, Zim now spoke calmly about his rejection from Irk, his label as a Defective. If Dib looked, and he did, he could see that Zim now had pride in the fact. Dib, feeling the need to be equally vulnerable, told him about what had transpired before he made his way into the alien base. About how his resolve to kill or be killed crumbled as he waited, and how the feelings shattered when he saw the state that Zim was in.

"How did you accept it," Dib asked. "When it made you like that?"

Zim shrugged and smiled, nestling farther into the couch.

"Found something to be worth defecting _for_."

-

The second thing Dib did was show Zim the wonders of Earth music, specifically the type of techno that apparently "pleased the antennae". He regretted it almost immediately after, Zim taking to music like a duck to water, giving a new meaning to 'addictive personality'. Once he had his first hit of good vibrations, Zim would claim that his antennae would get itchy and that he needed another dose in order to soothe them. After hours of surfing through various bands, shaping their playlist to their taste like vacuum-sealing a bag of fruit, they discovered MIZU. MIZU was a little known band that they found after hours of digging through the internet, strip-mining it for any and all songs that worked to soothe Zim's disco fever. He was entranced immediately, antennae perked throughout the band's three albums. Dib had to admit that most of their songs were pretty good, even without the antennae Zim used to "properly" hear them.

-

"Ughhhhhh," Zim groaned, spinning around in his chair. "Click another, Dib-let. This one is sooooo boring and my antennae still itch like a Ravenous Bugblatter Beast infested with fleas."

Dib sighed and rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the headache that was slowly forming in his skull. Ever since they started dating, Zim had been sure to inform Dib of every annoyance that plagued him. Dib didn't mind too much most of the time, at least they were communicating clearly, which Cosmo listed as the number one need for a healthy relationship. As long as he got to sleep for a solid five hours, Dib could deal with it, a deal that Zim usually respected. Usually. 

"Zim, we've been up for twenty hours," Dib whined, mindlessly clicking at another song. "I know you don't have to sleep but my stinky organic brain is about to shut down so can we pl-"

Before he could say any more, a spindly jade green finger pressed against his lips to shush him. Dib was about to lick it, a surefire way to be able to talk and subsequently get beat up, when he heard it.

A poppin, jammin beat.

Dib watched, entranced, as his tiny, energetic alien boyfriend sat up ramrod straight, antenna moving and waving independently to the rhythm. He found that his own feet began to tap along, head bobbing and swaying to and fro. As the current song faded out, the next blared in, and so on and so forth until they had jammed their way through all of MIZU's work.

-

The third thing he did was help Zim with his blog. He supposed it was a need for approval that ached since the whole realization of banishment. Dib worried that the public wouldn't be fond of Zim's endless rants, and that the alien would be crushed from the rejection of even an "inferior" species. But, he needn't have worried. Zim became a popular music critic, praised for his "imaginary and honest commentary," words that reinflated his ego after the junior year breakdown. Naturally, he took the opportunity to boost MIZU, hoping that a larger fan base would inspire the band to make new music. It worked, Zim's thousands of viewers flocking to the band he praised. In turn, MIZU went on a creative spree. Two years after Zim reviewed them, they announced that they were doing a world tour.

-

"AHAHAHA, greetings fellow Earthlings! Welllllllllcome back to ZIM'S EXTREME STREAM! Today I will be going over the songs Ivan and the COOCHIE GANG submitted-"

"Hey, Zim, what're you doing with all the lights off in h-"

Zim threw his arms over his eyes, protecting them from the bright flare of light as Dib absentmindedly flicked the switch.

"AHHH! TURN THEM OFF, TURN THEM OFF!"

The lights were flicked off unceremoniously. 

"Jeez, I'm sorry! Didn't realize you were doing something in here!"

The chair swiveled around maliciously to face Dib.

"Of COURSE I am doing something, Zim is not as lazy as you, stink-beast."

Dib backed away from situation, hands up in surrender. 

"Okay, okay, I get it. But uh, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing?"

Zim turned back around after flashing another glare at Dib.

"I am _obviously_ vlogging, Dib-shit. Now please, leave Zim in peace."

A flood of messages appeared on the stream all at once, and Zim scanned them quickly before turning back to look at his frustratingly tall boyfriend. 

"Unless you would like to join Zim in the ratings of muzak," he suggested, voice low and cautious. 

Dib visibly brightened up at the offered, wheeling over another chair. He sat down by Zim, who tried to reconfigure the camera to include Dib's ginormous head, but couldn't do much without having his face not make the frame. The tiny alien sighed.

"Zim demands that you move your hands so that I can sit in your lap."

Dib blushed, not sure of what to say as Zim hopped down off his chair and jumped up onto Dib's thighs. Zim paid it no mind, instead twisting to plunk a headset on Dib and then reaching over to fix the camera again. Once satisfied, Zim continued his introduction to his followers, and elbowed Dib to make him introduce himself as well.

Despite his camera-shyness (which only appeared when he wasn't hunting for cryptids), Dib found that streaming with his boyfriend was actually really fun. He got to make snarky comments back and forth with his favorite extraterrestrial, and Zim's viewers seemed to like him. And he had to admit that he appreciated Zim getting protective after some of the lewder comments.

"No you may _not_ take Zim's tall boyfriend, I claimed him and I am not giving him up. Go find someone eh, less tall that you'll have a chance with."

-

The fourth thing he did was buy the tickets. Because Zim was an alien and didn't even bother getting any sort paperwork, Dib was tasked with buying the tickets online as he had an actual credit card. The one thing he forgot, was that tickets were supposed to be printed out beforehand in the small, teeny-tiny chance of the concert being hosted in a cellular deadzone.

-

"Alright, step forward, nice 'n orderly please."

Dib and Zim stepped forward at the attendant's command, almost vibrating with excitement at being so close to the culmination of 2 years of work. They worked in tandem to try and hide the noticeable snack bulges in Dib's maximum allowed sized pack, both unwilling to pay the exorbitant prices of the venue food, especially given Zim's extreme metabolism. 

The attendant barely glanced at them before readying his scanner.

"Tickets please."

Dib hurriedly pulled out his phone and typed in the site, then waited for his request to go through.

He waited, 

And waited,

And waited.

Until, finally, his phone vibrated sadly, an emoticon of a frowny face popping up to denote a lack of reception. 

Zim, who was impatiently tapping his foot, peaked over at the delay and reviled at the sight.

"You _seriously_ didn't print out the tickets?"

"I think that's pretty clear, Zim. Could you be a little helpful instead of critical?"

The attendant coughed politely. 

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but if you could please move to the side so that other attendees can process through, thank you very much."

Dib pulled Zim to the side, frantically trying and failing to get some sort of signal.

Zim looked around, taking a minute to rifle through the trash before grabbing a handful and walking back to the wall Dib was defeatedly slumped against. In no time, he had assembled what looked to be a miniature satellite, molded out of paperclips and foil gum wrappers. He lightly kicked Dib with his boot.

"Gir has a part I need, we gotta go meet him."

"Seriously?"

Zim glared at him.

"I am _not_ missing this concert Dib-stink. You are lucky that you are so tall, otherwise I wouldn't be bothered to tell you my plan."

"Oh come on, you don't like me just because I'm _tall_."

Zim hummed. "Perhaps not, but if you dawdle any longer not even you height will be able to save you."

GIR had apparently taken up part-time dj-ing. Zim and Dib elbowed their way through the loud, smokey club, making their way towards the booth. They were just about to breach the crowd when a large, meaty hand gripped Zim's shoulder.

"HEY, NO ONE IS ALLOWED PAST THIS POINT," the bouncer told them, struggling to be heard over the music.

Zim pointed aggressively at GIR, who was wearing his ratty dog costume and a bowtie. 

"WE KNOW HIM, I JUST NEED TO PICK UP SOMETHING."

"SURE, THAT'S WHAT THEY ALL SAY. IF YOU'RE REALLY SERIOUS, YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL INTERMISSION."

Dib squirmed his way forward, trying to not get his too long limbs pinned by the gyrating crowd. 

"WE CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG, WE HAVE A CONCERT TO GET TO."

The bouncer shook his head dismissively. 

"THIS SET SHOULD BE OVER IN FIFTEEN, WAIT OUT BACK."

Zim's shoulder was released from the strong, sweaty hold, and the dynamic duo was slowly pushed outside by the mesh of people into the cool evening air. 

"Should we head back home to see-"

Zim cut him off with a glare. "That would take too much time, and your sweaty body is already melting the snacks, no doubt."

Dib was just about to reply when the backdoor was flung open, revealing GIR sat side saddle upon a huge pig, which trotted out towards them daintily. 

GIR hopped off with the expertise of an experienced cowboy, and handed Zim the required part before looking at his likely stolen watch. 

"Gotcha part, now you take Jeremy. He needs to go to 42nd street so that he can make up with Brenda," he stated surely, before a hot blonde came outside and whispered to him. "Okay, gotta go now. The wedding is waiting."

The robot left with the woman, leaving the pig outside with Dib and Zim.

"Is Jeremy the-"

Zim sighed and nodded, squeezing his eyes shut before he looked any longer at the beast. "The pig, yes."

"Should.. should we hail a taxi? Do they allow pigs?"

"Probably."  
\- 

Dib regretted hailing the taxi almost immediately. GIR's ginormous pig took up more than half of the backseat, and it looked to be eyeing Dib's fingers. His mind flashed back to an article about bodies being disposed of in a pig pen, leaving only shattered bone fragments in the span of only a few hours. And if the cabbie's estimation was right, they'd be stuck with the hungry porker for at least two hours. Dib slowly removed the melted gallon of ice cream from his back pack, hoping to distract the porcine from thoughts of juicy human flesh for as long as possible. The pig dove right in, squealing with delight.

All it had taken for the driver to let the pig in was to mention GIR.

"Oh yeah! Any friend of GIR's is a friend of mine," the cabbie professed. "Y'know he saved my marriage AND my left leg."

"Uh, actually the pi- Jeremy - is going through the same thing, I think. He needs to be dropped off at 42nd street?"

The cabbie nodded vigorously, before passionately clutching his chest. "I swear on my life, Jeremy, I will get you to 42nd street."

Dib leaned over towards Zim, who was finishing his satellite. 

"Hey," he whispered. "I think we need to get out and walk."

Zim looked at him with his patented are-you-stupid-or-ignorant face.

"I know that you take your height for granted, and as much as I absolutely _loathe_ to admit it: I am not tall."

Dib's face flashed through different expressions of regret, grimacing, and pleading.

"Can't you just use your PAK legs to, I dunno, vault us back to the concert?"

Zim stared at him sternly. 

"Oh yesss, just utilize alien technology for all to see, might as well just rip off my wig and contacts to complete the whole 'I'm not human' look."

So any vehicular help was out of the equation (Dib was NOT going to ride the pig), Zim couldn't make the run and finish the satellite in time, and time was running out.

That left one option.

"Dib, what are you- AHHH!"

With one swift movement, Dib had shoved the cab door outwards, yanked Zim with him, and started the run through the street. The cabbie saluted them proudly, and then turned to Jeremy.

"So, tell me about this Brenda."

Zim whooped and hollered, first out of surprise and then out of excitement, hanging on with one clawed hand (the other cradling the satellite) as Dib charged through the stuck traffic, weaving between vehicles in a blur of dark clothes and green skin.

"LOOK UPON MY SUPERIOR RIDE AND WEEP, STINK-BEASTS," he yelled at the passengers angrily honking their horns, unwrapping his hand from Dib's hoodie to pump it victoriously.

"NO ONE CAN LOOK DOWN ON THE MIGHTY ZIM NOW!"

"Zim," panted Dib, still dodging cars and skidding on his heels to narrowly avoid a motorcyclist. "Maybe we'd be more aerodynamic if you hunkered down an-"

"WHAT"

"I said maybe we'd be-"

"CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE WIND, DIBLING"

"I SAID-"

"WHAT"

"NEVERMIND!"

"ONWARDS, MY GANGLING DIBTHING! THE CONCERT AWAITS!"

Dib ran through more traffic, until red and blue sirens of a mounted policeman lit up beside him. He made his way to the sidewalk, hoping the horse and rider wouldn't follow. The pedestrians were even harder to dodge than the cars, and twice Dib had to make a conscious effort to not accidentally step on a baby. Zim turned around, his nails digging into Dib's shoulders when he saw the blinking lights of the policeman gaining on them.

"FASTER, DIB! THE AUTHORITIES ARE CLOSING IN."

Closing his eyes, Dib tried to recollect his short sports career, and the focus energy mantra of Kung Fu Panda 2. His body twisted and dove through the gaps between people, like a drunk ballerina on stilts. He wove like a charmed snake, or perhaps the dislocated neck of an angry swan. Whatever it was, it worked. The siren became a part of the background noise, and Zim could see no lights we he turned back around.

They made it to the concert in record time, Zim tweaking the final bit of foil before Dib came to a stop at the ticket attendant, who was just about to close the gates. With his last burst of energy, Dib whipped out his phone, pulled up the tickets, and held out the scan codes.

"Wow," the attendant said as he scanned the tickets and held open the gate. "I can't believe you guys made it."

Dib nodded wordlessly, tongue lolling out of his mouth, panting rapidly as he attempted to cool down. He stumbled over into the venue, and the first song began.

When he looked up, all he could see was the excitement of Zim's face. Almost as if he sensed it, the alien looked down, meeting Dib's eyes. Claws brushed away Dib's cowlick from his forehead, and Zim pressed a kiss to the skin, before sitting up and cheering to the music. Dib felt revitalized, and he sang and moved and grooved until his throat was hoarse and his muscles were sore. Evening faded into night, and a smattering of stars peeked out from behind the clouds and smoke.

"Alright everybody, we're going to take this moment to dedicate our last song to the dude who reinspired us to continue and made this tour possible. Zim, if you're here, MIZU thanks you!"

The song they played next was the best yet, although Dib might've been a little biased. Zim dropped off his shoulders when it ended, the concert-goers slowly trickling off the grounds and into their assorted groups and vehicles.

"So this has got to be a top five thing for me. What about you, top three? Favorite?"

"Top two."

Dib laughed. "If this is your top two, what in the world is your favorite?"

A cool, smooth hand grabbed one of Dib's.

"Well I was going to say my ridiculously tall boyfriend, but he seems to currently have brain rot."

"Hey! That's not fair, you know you're my number one."

"Hmph, perhaps my Dib-shit is my number one. But it is very close regardless."

"Speaking of close, race you home?"

Zim looked like he was considering it, and then took off in a sprint, cackling loudly. Dib, of course, raced after. 

They ended in a tie, or as messy it was, a tangle. Dib had tackled Zim right in the doorway, and hadn't let go, even now that they were laying on the couch, hot and sweaty from their run. Dib laid his chin atop Zim's head after the wig and contacts were put away, and held his boyfriend close to his chest.

They were still in that position, both asleep when GIR had come home. The little robot yawned, took off his bowtie and dog costume, and then snuggled inbetween, happy as can be.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year to everyone, especially those of you on the Secret Santa discord server. 2020 is gonna be great!
> 
> Edit: apologies to all. I apparently jinxed 2020 goodness. If you want to complain to me about this, catch me over on tumblr @herecomesthefirstnight !


End file.
